


Red Dress

by Rebsonia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Short One Shot, mercymaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 12:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12081297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebsonia/pseuds/Rebsonia
Summary: "Angela knew who she was, of course she did. Amélie knew her too, but she kept that to herself, and she smiled"





	Red Dress

**Author's Note:**

> ive never actually posted a fanfic before and i honestly have no idea what im doing all i know is this ship is godly and im very gay please help me

The second time she saw her was at the hotel. Red dress, hair pulled up. Amélie smiled softly, focusing her eyes on the woman. The first time she had seen her was in the audience. She locked eyes with her almost as soon as she walked on stage. The performance had gone well, and each time she glanced back down at the blonde she could sense how enamored she was with everything there. How enamored she was with Amélie.

She sat in the fifth row, dead center. Her peach painted lips parted in wonder at every jump and spin performed that night. Amélie felt the tug at her elbow as Gérard shifted to mingle with the others in the dining hall. Amélie looked down, back at the woman in red, and then finally up to Gérard. She faked a smile and laughed, feigning interest in their conversation. She snuck a look back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the red dress. Both the dress and its owner had vanished.

 

The third time she saw her was a happy one, for this time they would actually meet. Overwatch. A self-proclaimed peacekeeping organization. The shiny new savior of the people. They needed scientists, and Gérard was all too happy to oblige. Amélie, unwilling to part with Gérard for sake of convenience, moved to the watchpoint with him and left ballet behind.

Introductions were awkward. They always were. She could hardly recall their names mere moments after learning them. Amélie was bored, and covering everything in a thin layer of static. Then she was introduced to her. Doctor Angela Ziegler, child prodigy, field medic, and renowned scientist, the lady in red. They exchanged names, and followed that with small talk. Angela knew who she was, of course she did. Amélie knew her too, but she kept that to herself, and she smiled.

 

She saw her many times after that. Long nights spent talking in labs and hallways. Early mornings surrounded with coffee and the smell of the sea from the open windows. Tired weeks of silence throughout Gibraltar, everyone else off on a mission somewhere while they stayed behind. Soft evenings at her desk sitting quietly as their hands drifted closer, and their pinkies locked together. It was nice. Angela was nice.

Ana offered to train her, and soon found that Amélie was almost a natural with a rifle. It was odd to her, and she didn’t know if she liked hearing it, but she kept at it regardless, not wanting to disappoint her new mentor. Gérard was distant, enveloped in his work. They hadn't spoken in days. Amélie aimed down the sights at the poster on the back wall of the range. She let out a small breath and fired, hitting her target square in the chest. She never missed.

 

The last time Angela saw her was on a rainy April morning. They carried her in by hand and set her down on the table. Her commanders were silent and Amélie lie still. Alive, but barely. Gérard shouted, cursing everyone in the room for allowing this to happen. The doctor closed her eyes and motioned for them to leave. Then she placed her hand in Amélie’s, and she cried.

The night of Gérard’s death was windy. The cool sea air forced its way through the doctor’s open window in short bursts. She had fallen asleep at her desk. It was a mess, not tidied since Amélie had disappeared. A soft knock, a softer hand on her shoulder, and she was awake. Looking up she saw Gabriel, and his face relayed the information she already somehow knew. It wasn’t good news.

 

The last time Amélie saw her was on a Saturday. She lay on her stomach, breathing slowly. The scope sat in front of her eye as she scanned the area. Her target was to arrive at the ball within moments. Two black cars pulled up into the driveway, slowing to a stop in front of the grand double door entrance. The first held the blond, Jack. He stepped out, offering a hand to Gabriel. He denied it, shooing him away as he exited the back of the vehicle. Ana followed him, and Amélie released a small grin at the sight of her old mentor.

The second car held the short bearded man. Amélie struggled to recall his name, but was distracted by the burly figure that climbed out next. He hit his head on the roof of the car. Rubbing his temple, he helped a much smaller figure out of the back seat. A flash of red covered the scope for a second and she blinked. Angela wore the same dress she had on the night Amélie first laid eyes on her. Clenching her eyes shut for a moment, she focused herself. Aiming the scope on her target she noticed her peach colored lips, and she could almost smell the lilac perfume the doctor wore oh so often. Her sights aimed over the chest of the red dress. She let out a small breath and pulled the trigger. The car window shattered, and glass flew everywhere. Jack rushed over to the second car and ushered them all behind it for cover. Amélie had missed.


End file.
